


A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

by MoonCat457



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bad Parenting, Brief Imprisonment in an Attic, Chance Meetings, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Fest 2020, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Past Character Death, Rescue Missions, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonCat457/pseuds/MoonCat457
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a boy named Sirius. To his mother, he was a prince. However, little did she know that one day, he would indeed grow up to be a prince. A chance encounter in the woods led to an invitation to a royal ball and a chance to live out a dream for happiness he thought had died in his childhood.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 34
Kudos: 68
Collections: Marauders Fest 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Marauders Fest 2021.  
>   
> Thank you to my beta reader, [Mio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MioGayHermione/profile).

##  _ Once upon a time... _

there was a boy named Sirius, and he saw the world not always as it was, but perhaps how it could be. To his mother, Ella, he was a prince. True, he had no crown, nor castle, and his title was nowhere near that of the actual royal throne, but in Ella’s eyes, he was still a prince, ever kind, ever courageous, and ever chivalrous. His father was a Viscount of Whingington, a small viscounty in the Earldom of Godric’s Hollow within the Kingdom of Hogsmeade, and while his duty as enforcer of the law in the land kept him busy, he always had time to dote on his beloved wife and son. All was just as it should be. But sorrow can come to anyone, no matter how happy they find themselves to be, and so it came to Grimmauld Manor.

Not much time passed between the passing of Sirius’ mother and Sirius’ father’s decision to remarry. While Sirius tried to remain the same, in his heart, for he remembered his promise to his mother to always have courage and be kind, Orion was much changed. He was lonely and the duties to Lord Potter, Earl of Godric’s Hollow, as well as the duty of being a proper father to his five-year-old son, was too heavy to bear without the companionship of a wife. So, within a few months of Ella’s passing, Orion and Walburga were wed. Within a year, Sirius had not only a new stepmother, but a baby brother named Regulus, who Sirius came to adore more than anything or anyone in the world. However, Walburga did not approve of their close relationship. In fact, she did not seem to approve of Sirius at all and made no efforts to act as a mother toward him. Any motherly energy she had, she targeted toward Regulus, not that she had many maternal instincts to begin with.

See, Walburga was a woman of keen feeling and refined taste with ambitions that lay well above her current station. Being a kind and doting mother did not serve those goals, especially regarding Sirius. In Orion’s frequent absence, she did not spare Sirius a moment of attention and instead set out to fill the home with the illusion of wealth in the form of lavish parties. The years went on, and while remembering his mother’s words of wisdom proved difficult for Sirius to remember with Walburga’s increasing animosity toward her stepson, Sirius at least had his father. At least for a time.

Sorrow visited Grimmauld Manor once again, this time taking Sirius’ father from him when he was not yet eighteen-years-old. Grimmauld Manor, and thus Whingington, were left in the care of Walburga. Her niece, Bellatrix from the nearby kingdom of Beauxbatons, came to stay in the manor, taking Sirius’ bedroom as her own and forcing him to move into the attic, as all the other rooms were being “redecorated.” But Sirius kept his head held high, even when Walburga spent the family’s fortune trying to maintain a life beyond her means instead of taking on the duties of the household. Sirius did what he could, despite not being named his father’s heir, but within a few months, economies had to be taken. His stepmother dismissed the household. Bellatrix and Walburga ever misused Sirius, and by and by, they considered him less a member of the family than a servant.

And so Sirius was left to do all the work. 


	2. A Royal Hunt

A sunbeam crosses over Sirius’ face, waking him. He flings an arm over his eyes, determined to get a few more minutes of sleep before starting on that day’s work. The motion disturbs a pile of embers from the hearth, making him cough and splutter. Carefully, he sits up, his back screaming from lying on the hard kitchen floor for the night, not that his bed in the attic is much more comfortable. It, too, is as hard as a rock, but at least it’s more dignified than sleeping by the hearth just so he wouldn’t freeze to death in the night.

Although, perhaps that was Walburga’s plan when she banished Sirius to the drafty attic—that he would freeze to death on a chilly night, and she’d no longer have to deal with him. But, as much as Walburga hated Sirius and seemed to wish he were dead, she would likely rather he stick around to do all the dirty housework. She calls it a good thing, as it should distract Sirius from his grief—and she and Bellatrix are more than happy to provide him with lots and lots of distractions—but Sirius sees this for exactly what it was: a farce. Sirius knows that it was just Walburga’s excuse to dis-serve him, he truly does, but he goes along with it anyway because he can’t leave Grimmauld Manor. Not because he has nowhere else to go—his best friend James has offered him a place to stay at Shell Park in Tinworth, where his father just named him Viscount, as well as employ that would use Sirius’ academic talents. No, it’s because he simply can’t leave the Manor that his mother loved so dearly or his baby brother, Regulus, alone in his wicked stepmother’s clutches.

So Sirius gets up to start his day. He uses his maroon checkered vest to wipe away as much of the soot he knows must be on his face, then slips it on and buttons it. With the ribbon he keeps in his vest pocket, he ties his shoulder length, black hair back before pulling on his worn brown riding boots and standing. He starts the process of making breakfast, just tea, and some simple pastries and fresh fruit he got from the market. Walburga and Bellatrix would most likely not eat it anyway, and Regulus has never been one for breakfast, but Sirius has to serve it, anyway. At least there are always plenty of leftovers, since the scraps from the table are usually all Sirius gets to eat. From time to time, Regulus will sneak him portions of his own food, but the occurrences of that are infrequent as to not draw attention to himself.

Sirius is loading the breakfast spread onto trays to bring upstairs when the butler bells begin to ring, letting Sirius know that the household is awake. He balances the trays on both hands and dashes up the servant’s staircase leading to the drawing room, where his family likes to take their breakfast. Regulus is already dressed and seated when he arrives, reading the weekly newspaper.

“Good morning, Reg. I trust you slept well?” Sirius asks, setting the trays down and immediately going to pour him a cup of tea.

“I did, thank you, although it was chilly when I awoke this morning,” Regulus says, setting the paper down.

“I’ll start the fire once I get your tea—”

“I can get that, Sirius.” Regulus stands and lays his hand on top of Sirius’.

“Right, I should start the fire.”

“Sirius—” He can hear Regulus’ start as he turns to busy himself with the drawing room fireplace, but Walburga’s entrance into the room presents Regulus from saying anything further.

“I thought breakfast was ready,” she drawls, her tone as cold and biting as the weather last night.

“It is, madam,” Sirius says, sparing her a quick glance to see her sharp face pulled into a scowl. “I’m only mending the fire.”

“In the future, could you have the work done before we sit for breakfast?”

“As you wish.”

“Ah, but watching him work brings me such joy,” Bellatrix says as she sweeps into the room on Walburga’s heels.

Sirius does his best not to sneer at her and instead starts to pour her and Walburga’s tea.

“Sirius, what’s that on your face?” Walburga asks as she takes her seat.

“Madam?”

“It’s ash from the fireplace,” Regulus whispers, shooting him a pained look.

Sirius swears under his breath and turns away from the table to wipe his face clean with the help of the mirror.

Bellatrix laughs, a high pitch thing that could set one’s teeth on edge. “Oh, we must come up with a new name for him, mustn’t we Little Reggie?”

Sirius freezes, waiting for Regulus to say something, possibly in his defense.

“Honestly, I couldn’t bear to look so dirty—Ah! Dirty Sirius?” Bellatrix exclaims. “Oh, no, wait! Cinder-Siri!”

“Clever, Bella,” Walburga muses, sipping her tea.

Sirius turns and looks helplessly at Regulus, who says nothing either to assist or discourage Bellatrix. The name shouldn’t get to him. Bellatrix and Walburga have said far worse things to him in the past. But, as his mother always said, names have power, like magic spells. And as he catches his reflection yet again in the mirror behind him, it feels as if he has indeed been transformed into merely a creature of ash and toil.

Biting back either a scream or tears—possible both—he turns to Walburga. “Is there anything else you require, madam?”

“No, that will be all. “Do clean yourself up,” Walburga spits.

With a terse nod, he makes a break for the staircase leading back to the kitchen. The door slams behind him as he lets out a frustrated yell and kicks the kitchen table he spends all of his meals at alone. But it isn’t enough to let out whatever he’s feeling. So, he continues past the table toward the back door that leads to the stables, intent on escaping, even just for a little while.

Sirius doesn’t even bother to stop and saddle his horse, Elvie, before climbing onto her back and setting off in the direction of Shell Park. He pulls the ribbon from his hair and undoes his tie, letting it hang loose from his neck as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his cream dress shirt. Then he spurs Elvie on faster to feel the wind through his hair and on his skin. As he passes the forest’s edge, Elvie starts to slow down to a trot. Sirius closes his eyes and lets out an audible sigh, feeling freer now that he’s away from his home turned prison.

His sigh of relief, however, turns to a gasp as Elvie spooks, nearly bucking him off her back. He clutches to her neck, careful not to pull her hair, and opens his eyes to see a massive stage standing in front of him, towering over Elvie. He gets her to settle, and for a long moment, he locks eyes with the stag who miraculously doesn’t charge at him or run away. Then, he hears the sound of blaring trumpets and a chorus of shouts. A hunting party.

Sirius glances around him, hoping to see where the hunting party is coming from, then locks eyes with the stag again. The stag heard it, too, and rears back onto his hind legs.

“Go,” Sirius hisses at it, waving his arms in hopes that it would spook it into running. “Run. Quickly, my friend, or they’ll catch you.”

The stag bolts off, and Elvie goes to follow, despite Sirius’ protests. “Whoa, girl, easy, easy!” He shouts to no avail. He starts regretting not at least putting a lead on Elvie before leaving the stable, because now he was left trying to control a spooked runaway horse without any equipment to help him.

Thankfully, from Sirius’ left, a man on his own horse appears from the field beyond the forest’s edge. “Sir! Sir, are you alright?” The man shouts, and as desperately as Sirius wants to shout back that he’s fine and he’s got it, he most certainly does not. “Hold on, I’ve got you,” the man says, reaching over to grab Elvie’s mane and help get her to slow down.

Elvie slows to a stop, and Sirius lets out a sigh of relief, brushing her mane and whispering to her soothingly. “Shh, it’s alright, girl, it’s alright. You’re safe.”

“Sir, are you alright?” Sirius’ rescuer asks, his voice gentler than before.

Sirius finally looks up to see perhaps the most handsome man he’s ever had the pleasure of looking upon. His tawny curls are delightfully windswept from riding and his piercing green eyes, brought out by the bright green shooting jacket he’s wearing, stare at him, filled with concern. But no matter how gorgeous this man may be, that doesn’t cancel out the fact that it was his hunting party that frightened the poor stag he’d encountered.

“I’m alright, but you’ve nearly frightened the life out of him,” Sirius says with a huff. Elvie starts to circle the man and his horse, as if working off her restless energy.

“Your horse?” The man and his horse start to circle opposite Sirius. “If I’m not mistaken, you were calling it a girl a moment ago,” the man says, bemused.

“No, not Elvie. The stag. What’s he ever done to you to make you go about chasing him in his own home?”

The man smirks. “My apologies. I must admit I’ve never met him before. Nor have I ever met a horse called something as strange as Elvie.”

“Ah, well, it does get a good deal stranger. Elvie is short for Elvendork—”

The man outright laughs now.

“Don’t make fun, I was a child. And I haven’t decided if I’ve forgiven you yet for the stag,” Sirius says, flashing a coy grin.

“And what do they call you, sir?” the man asked.

Sirius’ grin falters. “It—it doesn’t matter what they call me.”

“And are you alone this deep in the forest?”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got Elvie. And you, Mister—?” Sirius trails off, hoping the man will supply his name.

“You don’t know who I am?” He asks, laughing again, this time in bewilderment.

Sirius can’t help but smile again as he shakes his head. This man’s laugh is infectious.

“They call me Moony,” the man—Moony—says. “Or at least, my father does when he’s not annoyed with me.”

“And you made fun of poor Elvie for her name,” Sirius teases, making him laugh again. “And where do you live, Mr. Moony?”

“At the palace. My father… well, he’s teaching me his trade,” Mr. Moony says vaguely.

“I’ve never been to the palace. Is it—do they treat you well there?”

“Better than I deserve, I think,” he says solemnly. “Do they—are you treated well where you come from?”

Sirius looks away as he turns Elvie to keep riding in tight circles. “They treat me as well as they’re capable of, which is to say, not very.” The statement comes as a surprise to Sirius. He isn’t usually one to admit how his family treats him to anyone other than James, yet he does anyway. “But we must have courage and be kind. At least, that’s what my mother used to say.”

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Moony says, coming to a stop in Sirius’ path, forcing him to look up.

“It’s not your fault,” Sirius murmurs.

“Nor is it yours.” Mr. Moony reaches a hand out and rests it atop Sirius’ on Elvie’s mane. “Won’t you please tell me your name?”

He hesitates, but something about this Mr. Moony radiates kindness and compassion, and it calms any nerves he feels. “Sirius,” he supplies. “Like the—”

“Like the star,” Mr. Moony finishes.

The horns sound again, and another man, this one shorter and pumper than Mr. Moony, approached from the distance.

“Ah,” the new man calls. “There you are, Your High—”

“It’s Moony! Moony!” Mr. Moony calls, interrupting him.

The man gives Sirius and Mr. Moony a quizzical look. “Well, we better get a move on, Mr. Moony.”

“I’m on my way,” he calls, without taking his eyes, or his hand, off Sirius. They exchange a long look, then Mr. Moony slowly returns his hand to his horse’s reins. “I hope to see you again, Mr. Sirius.”

“Likewise,” Sirius whispers. He watches with a smile as Mr. Moony rides off, then spurs Elvie forward to continue his ride to Shell Park, now with much happier news than he originally had.

* * *

Remus dismounts his horse and hands the reins to one of the stable hands before heading for the palace, Peter hot on his heels.

“The King is going to kill you, you know, once word gets out that you let the stag free,” Peter says, jogging to keep up with Remus’ fast pace. “Or, more likely, me since I was meant to keep an eye on you.”

“Keep an eye on me?” Remus asks, stopping dead in his tracks. “And here I thought you accompanied me in the hunt because you’re my friend.”

“Is it truly a hunt if we come back empty handed?” Peter retorts, earning a laugh.

“No, I suppose not. But word won’t get out. Unsuccessful hunts happen all the time,” he points out before continuing toward his chambers. They climb the back staircase and find a red-haired young woman, waiting in the seating area outside the doors, working on a square of embroidery.

“Your Highness, Your Grace,” she says, standing, tucking her embroidery under her arm, and curtsying.

“Lady Lily,” Remus says, giving her a small bow. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow evening.”

“Surprise.” She smiles and closes the distance, lifting on her toes to kiss Remus’ cheek, then Peter’s.

“Come, let’s sit inside. I need to get ready for my royal portrait appointment,” Remus says as he opens the doors to his quarters. He heads straight behind the changing screen to swap his hunting jacket for a vest and frock coat while Peter and Lily settle on the couches in the sitting area.

“So, I hear that you let a stag free during today’s hunt,” Lily says. “What happened?”

“How—”

“I told you,” Peter says matter-of-factly. “And what happened is that he got distracted by a young man in the woods.”

“Peter—”

“Oh, a boy! I thought you had a glow about you,” Lily teases.

“I’m not glowing,” Remus protests.

“‘Not glowing,’” she parrots. “Rem, you were practically skipping down the corridor! I’ve never seen you that way before. One would think you’ve never seen a handsome boy.”

Remus pokes his head out from behind his changing screen. “He wasn’t a ‘handsome boy.’ Well, alright, he was very handsome. He looked a complete mess—waistcoat all undone, tie hanging around his neck, and I’m pretty sure there was soot on his face—but he had this gorgeous, wavy black hair and his eyes—oh, Lily, his eyes—they were the most brilliant grey, almost silver—” he breaks off as Lily giggles, hiding a smile behind her embroidery. He lets out an exasperated sigh. “I mean, Pete, you saw him!”

“I saw him,” Peter says, hiding a smirk. “It seems as if he’s gotten you in a mess, too.” He gestures to Remus’ open waistcoat and undone tie.

Remus waves a dismissive hand at him, then works on buttoning the golden buttons of his light blue waistcoat. “But he wasn’t just handsome. There was so much more to him. He was kind and clever, a bit feisty. He told me off for scaring the stag we were hunting.”

“He told you off?” Lily asks in surprise. “I can’t tell if his disregard for royal protocol is admirably bold or remarkably foolish.”

“That’s the thing: he had no idea who I was. It was…” He smiles wistfully and sits on the couch next to Lily. “It was as though I was simply an ordinary man talking to someone who would probably be out of my league if I wasn’t the crown prince.”

“Remus…” Lily says in warning.

“I’m not being self-deprecating, Lily. I’m being honest. The only reason I get as much attention as I do is because I’m to be King one day. But Sirius didn’t know that. I got a glimpse of what it would be like not having a title or responsibility.”

“You do have a title and responsibility, though,” Peter reminds him.

Remus sighs. “Is this where you remind me I’m supposed to find a person of noble birth to marry?”

“I’m sorry, Remus, but it’s my job. Yes, I’m your friend, but I’m also your advisor, which means I have to counsel you for how best to serve your country. And your father believes that the best way to do that is with a marriage alliance,” Peter says.

“The whole thing is ridiculous, though!” Remus stands to pace. “And before you say anything, I know my father has been supportive of the whole homosexuality thing, and I’m grateful, I am. But I still don’t understand why he won’t let this whole marriage of state idea go. The whole point of them is to produce an heir that solidifies the bond between two countries, and I will not be doing that with some stuffy Prince.”

“Even without an heir, marrying someone of high station will make the country appear stronger,” Peter reasons. “And it’s not as though the King is arranging a marriage for you. He’s throwing a ball in order for you to find someone of your choosing.”

“A ball I didn’t ask him to throw,” Remus protests. “Whether I find someone at this ball or he arranges the marriage for me makes no difference. Either way, I’m marrying for duty, not love, and that’s not what marriage should be about.”

“You don’t know that you won’t find love,” Lily offers.

Remus gives her a weary look, but says nothing.

“Look, Remus. I understand this must be difficult for you. I want you to be happy, I do,” Peter says with a heavy sigh. “But if I don’t get you to agree to this ball, things are going to become difficult for me. My father already doesn’t believe that I’m worthy of succeeding him as Grand Duke, and if I don’t succeed him, then when you become King, I won’t be able to be your advisor.”

Remus glares at him. “Are you truly playing the ‘my father doesn’t believe in me,’ card, right now?”

“You didn’t leave me much choice!”

<p">Remus glares at him for a long moment, and Peter stares right back, challenging him in a way that most people wouldn’t dare to. But that is why Peter is his closest confidant. “Fine. I’ll attend this ball, and I will even try to find a husband—”

“Thank you—”

“On one condition.”

“Should have seen that coming, Pete, my love,” Lily says knowingly.

“We open the ball up to the entire kingdom, not just the nobility. It would be good for the kingdom,” Remus says.

“Are you sure this is about the kingdom?” Peter asks.

“Or do you simply want to see this mystery boy again?” Lily adds.

“Did I not agree to find a husband? What good would it do seeing a boy I know I can’t marry? It simply seems unfortunate to host a royal ball using the peoples’ taxes without inviting them to it,” Remus explains.

Lily and Peter exchange a look as if to say they know Remus is lying, but they let it go.

“I’ll talk to our fathers,” Peter promises.


	3. A Royal Ball

Sirius dusts the front foyer, smiling as memories of Mr. Moony replay in his head. It’s probably foolish of him to still be daydreaming about the man, seeing as he probably would never see him again, and even if he did, the likelihood of a relationship forming is significantly low. But Mr. Moony had said he’d like to see Sirius again, and that was enough to keep him in high spirits.

Finished with the foyer, Sirius moves on to the drawing room, where Regulus sits at the piano working on one of his latest compositions. He hums along as he dusts and tidies, oblivious to Regulus’ perplexed stare.

Finally, Regulus stops playing and pivots to face his brother. “Alright, out with it, Sirius.”

Sirius stops humming and looks at him. “What?”

“For days now you’ve been happier than—” he hesitates, trying to formulate his words. “Well, happier than I think I’ve ever seen you, if I’m being candid. I’m pleased to see it. I’m just wondering what brought this new Sirius about.”

Sirius considers him for a moment, then peaks out the door to check for eavesdroppers before sitting next to Regulus on the piano bench. “You can’t make fun, but I met someone the other day after Bellatrix and stepmother—”

“I’m sorry about that. I should have tried to stop them from being so cruel,” Regulus interrupts, frowning.

“It’s alright,” Sirius assures him. “I understand why you didn’t. I expect it wouldn’t have done much good, anyway.”

“Still, I hope you know that I would never dare treat you—”

Sirius rests a hand on his arm to stop him. “I know, Reg.”

Regulus smiles and places a hand on top of Sirius’, giving it a quick squeeze. “Good. So, you met a man?”

Sirius’ eyes widen with mild surprise.

“Yes, I know. I may have only been seven for the kitchen boy incident, but I wasn’t naïve,” Regulus says with a slight smile. “So, tell me about this man.”

“Mr. Moony,” Sirius says with a wistful smile. “I think it’s a nickname of sorts. He’s an apprentice at the palace, which I know means I’ll likely never see him again, but he was just wonderful. Gentle, handsome, with a laugh like honey.”

“What if I said you could see him again?”

“What?”

“There is to be a royal ball at the palace tonight. Mother and I got the invitation to go the morning you were off meeting your Mr. Moony. Father may not have named you his successor—which I still find absolutely ridiculous—but you’re still a Lord, which means you have just as much a right to be there as I—”

“He absolutely does not,” Walburga snaps as she stalks into the room. “He won’t be going, and that’s final.”

“But Madam—” Sirius protests

“Let me be clear,” she drawls, narrowing her piercing eyes at him. “Orion had the good sense before he passed to see you for what you are: an embarrassment. I will not let you sully the good name of the House of Black by showing up so you can seduce some common apprentice boy. Now, I need you to press our evening wear for tonight. And be careful. You don’t want to find out what happens if you muck up a single stitch of the embroidery on either my or Bella’s gown.” She spins on her heel and walks out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” Regulus says as soon as Walburga is out of earshot. “Perhaps I can convince her.”

Sirius shakes his head solemnly. “It’s alright. I don’t want her to be cross with you. Just head upstairs. I’ll help you get ready later.” He stands and gives Regulus a sad smile, then leaves to continue his work.

At seven o’clock sharp, the carriage arrives, and Sirius hurries down the stairs to open the door for Walburga, Bellatrix, and Regulus to see them off. Sirius watches as Walburga and Bellatrix struggle to climb into the carriage, their heavily embroidered and corseted gowns of red and green respectively restricting their movement, but it doesn’t bring him any joy like it once might have. He holds his composure until the carriage pulls away, but then it crumbles.

He kicks at a nearby potted plant, causing it to wobble and fall off the front step. When it doesn’t shatter as he half expected it to, he lets out a shuddered exhale and collapses on the step. “I’m sorry, mama. I said I’d have courage, but I don’t,” he whispers to himself, burying his face in his hands.

“What did that planter ever do to you?”

Sirius snaps his head up at the sound of the voice to see his best friend standing before him, his usually untidy black hair tamed and wearing classic formal evening attire made slightly more unique by the damask print on his black tailcoat and the maroon bow tie instead of black.

“James,” he chokes.

“What happened?” James asks, his teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

“I hate it here, James.”

“Why do you stay here, then?” He asks, crouching down to be on his level, as if he were a child.

Sirius opens his mouth to answer as he always does, for Regulus, but he simply shakes his head.

“Alright, well, I’m glad I came. Come on,” James says, straightening and extending a white gloved hand. “You’re coming with me.”

Sirius takes James’ hand skeptically and allows him to pull him to his feet. “Where are we going?”

“To the ball, of course,” he says with a grin. “I figured your dreadful witch of a stepmother would have refused to let you go, so I’m here to whisk you away.”

“But I have nothing to wear,” Sirius protests, but James waves a dismissive hand at him.

“I had my tailor make something for you, and I don’t want to hear you arguing that it wasn’t necessary, because it was. You’ve got two inches on me.” James gave Sirius a little push toward the carriage. “Now, get in. You can change on the way, because we’re going to be late.”

* * *

Remus stands at the front of the ballroom, next to his father’s throne, keeping his face schooled in a neutral expression as Prince after Prince and noble family after noble family are announced.

“Princes Gideon and Fabian of the Prewett throne,” the herald announces, and Remus watches as two red-haired twins enter and bow to the throne.

Remus gives a small bow back and continues to look around the room in search of Mr. Sirius.

“Who are you looking for?” King Lyall asks.

Remus notices the herald giving a signal that there are no longer any guests waiting outside. “No one,” he mumbles under his breath.

“You should open up the ball with the first dance,” Lyall suggests. “Perhaps one of your potential suitors?”

Remus gives his father a strained smile. “I promised Lady Lily the first dance. It is our tradition, after all.”

“Remus—” he says in warning, but Remus bows and is already making his way through the crowd to find Lily.

He finds her easily, the brilliant green and gold dress and her red hair making her stand out amongst the crowd. They bow and curtsy, then the music starts, and Remus leads her through a waltz around the dance floor.

“Your Highness, you aren’t using me as an excuse not to get to know one of your many suitors, are you?” Lily teases.

“Of course not. I simply wanted to share a dance with my best friend, rather than someone who only wants me for my—He’s here.” Remus stops short and nearly trips over his feet when he glimpses Mr. Sirius sneaking in through the ballroom doors. He looks completely different from the last time he lay eyes on him—dressed in a fine sapphire blue tailcoat, grey paisley waistcoat, and baby blue bowtie, with his raven black hair tied into a plait—but even all cleaned up, Remus would recognize him anywhere.

“Who’s here? Your mystery boy?” Lily whispers, glancing around the room.

“Yes,” Remus whispers back. “By the door standing with the dark haired man with glasses.”

“Oh, Remus, he’s gorgeous,” Lily breaths. “No wonder you’re smitten. That’s James Potter, the Viscount of Tinworth, that he’s with. His father’s Earldom shares a border with my father’s march.”

“Wait, the same James Potter you may or may not fancy?” Remus asks, and Lily nods.

The song comes to a close, but another starts up straight away as couples flood the dance floor.

“Come, I’ll act as a distraction,” Lily hisses.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I know you have a duty to your Kingdom, but I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, so come on.” Lily threads her arm through Remus’ and leads him away from the dance floor toward Mr. Sirius and Lord James.

“Your Highness,” Lord James says, immediately bowing once Remus is close enough. “And my Lady, you look lovely.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” she says, curtsying.

Remus locks eyes with Mr. Sirius, who stares at him in utter shock, but bows. “It’s you,” Remus whispers, smiling brightly up at him.

“Your Highness, may I present Lord Sirius Black, son of the late Viscount of Whingington,” James says before turning to Lily. “My Lady, would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance so we may leave these two alone?”

Lily smiles and removes her hand from Remus’ arm to place it into Lord James’ outstretched one. “It would be my pleasure.”

“You’re a Prince,” Mr. Sirius breathes once Lily and Lord James are gone.

Remus chuckles. “And you’re a Lord—the heir to Whingington, if I’m not mistaken.”

Sirius shakes his head. “My father named my younger brother his successor.”

Remus furrows his brow. Something about that doesn’t seem right to him, but he’s not about to debate peerage inheritance law with the man he thought he’d never see again. “Lord Sirius—”

“Just Sirius is fine, Mr. Moony, or rather, Your Highness.”

“Remus. Moony is a nickname.”

Sirius smiles and exhales softly. “Remus,” he repeats.

Remus’ stomach flutters, and he thinks that he would likely never tire of hearing the way Sirius says his name. “If I may—that is,” he shakes his head to clear it, then smiles and extends his hand, “it would give me the greatest pleasure if you would do me the honor of letting me lead you through this next dance—well, I suppose you could lead, as well, if you liked.”

“I would love to, but—” he glances around the room. “When I came, I thought I was sneaking out to see an apprentice and wouldn’t draw much attention to myself, but you’re the Prince, Remus—”

“Forgive me,” Remus says, taking a tentative step closer. “I thought you might treat me differently if you knew.”

“Of course, I understand. It’s only—I’m not supposed to be here. If my stepmother saw me—”

Remus frowns at the fear in Sirius’ silver eyes and wants to ask about it, but decides against it. Instead, he extends his hand again. “Come with me. I know somewhere where we won’t be bothered.”

Sirius takes it with a tentative smile and lets Remus lead him outside to the royal gardens. “Won’t they miss you at the ball, though?”

“Probably, but I’d rather be out here with you than in there with people vying for my attention simply because of my title.” Remus sighs and looks away. “My apologies. I don’t mean to sound petulant.”

“I don’t think you sound petulant,” Sirius says, resting a hand on his elbow to get his attention. “As I said, I understand. It must be difficult not knowing whether people are being truthful with you.”

“It is, although I don’t think I’ll have that problem with you, seeing as you told me off for frightening a stag the moment we met.”

Sirius laughs. “In my defense, I didn’t know you were the Crown Prince of Hogsmeade. But, in truth, I’m not sure that would have stopped me.”

“No, I don’t expect it would have,” Remus says with a smile that falls after a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks, taking Remus’ hand in his.

“When I go back, they’ll try to pair me off with the gentleman of their choosing. I’m expected to marry for advantage.”

“Whose advantage? Surely you have the right to your own heart.”

“I must weigh that against my father’s wishes, though,” Remus says, almost mechanically. “He’s a wise ruler and a loving father. I respect him a great deal, but…”

“You wish things could be different?” Sirius offers.

Remus looks at their clasped hands, then into Sirius’ silver eyes. “Yes, I do.”

They stroll along the gardens until Remus spots the door he’s looking for, hidden partially by vines. “It’s just here,” he says, pulling Sirius to the door at a bit of an excited run.

“A secret garden?”

Remus sits and watches fondly as Sirius walks around the small, flower filled space. He takes off one of his baby blue gloves to trail a finger along the petal of a rose.

“These were my mother’s favorite,” he murmurs, smiling sadly.

“When did you lose her?”

“I was five-years-old.” Sirius joins him on the bench, setting his gloves aside. “It was quite sudden. I did my best to stay strong because that’s what she wanted—‘Have courage and be kind’ she said—but father never really recovered. He remarried, of course, but I think he missed her until the end.” He shakes his head and forces a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“You didn’t,” Remus assures him. “I asked.” He takes his gloves off and tucks them into his pocket, then twists a rose off a nearby vine to hand it to Sirius. “Here, for your mother.”

He smiles brightly as he smells the rose. “Very smooth, Mr. Moony. Is this your regular move? Take a boy to the secret garden and give him flowers?”

Remus laughs. “Just you. There haven’t been many boys, truthfully.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “A brief dalliance years ago with a village boy named Benjy, but it didn’t make it past hand holding and a few stolen kisses. And you?”

Sirius tilts his head in question.

“Have there been many boys?” He clarifies.

Sirius shakes his head. “I held hands with a boy from the kitchens once, but my stepmother fired him and his mother when she found out. Never even got as far as kissing.”

“So, you haven’t—?”

He shakes his head again. “What’s it like?”

Remus lets out a nervous chuckle, taken off-guard by this beautiful man’s boldness. “I’m not sure I have the words.”

“You could show me,” Sirius whispers.

Remus feels his breath catch as they lock eyes. He lifts a tentative hand up to caress Sirius’ cheek, but stops just shy of touching him. “May I?”

Sirius nods and leans into Remus’ touch, smiling. Then, Remus leans in, lets his eyes flutter closed, and brings their lips together for a brief, chaste kiss. After a few seconds, he starts to pull away, but Sirius’ hand on the side of his neck stops him, pulling him back for a longer kiss.

—

One kiss turns into several. Soft presses of the lips between giddy laughs and smiles. Sirius doesn’t have anything to compare it to, but he doesn’t need experience to know that it’s the best kisses he’ll likely ever have. It’s intoxicating, the feel of Remus’ warm lips brushing against his own, and he never wants it to end. But he also needs to breathe, so he reluctantly pulls away and rests his forehead against Remus’. He’s close enough to him now to notice the flecks of brown in his eyes, the dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and the small scar on the bow of his lip, which only makes his smile more beautiful.

“You’re right,” Sirius whispers, sighing softly as Remus tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m not sure there are words to describe how wonderful that was.”

Remus blushes and slides his hand further into Sirius’ hair to cradle his head. “Sirius, I know we haven’t known each other long, however—”

He’s cut off by the sound of running and shouting coming from beyond the wall.

“Sirius!” A panting James exclaims as he bursts through the door. “My apologies, Your Highness—Sirius, we have to go.”

“What? Why?” Sirius asks, extracting himself from Remus’ embrace to stand.

“Your stepmother—she’s leaving early. I ran into her and your brother as they were leaving. He’s trying to delay her, but—”

Suddenly, the world feels like it’s spinning. Sirius gropes for Remus’ hand. “I’m sorry. This has been the most amazing evening. Truly. I wish I could stay.” He gives Remus’ hand a squeeze then turns to run, but Remus pulls him back.

“Sirius, wait. You can stay. Please, you don’t have to go back—”

“I do though. I’m so sorry. I don’t have time to explain.” Acting on impulse, Sirius dips his head down to press a quick kiss to Remus’ cheek, then he breaks free and sprints through the garden back to the castle. They weave through the dance floor. Trailing after James, Sirius runs up the grand staircase. As he makes it to the landing, he collides with the spitting image of Remus, a man who could be no one other than the King, with the same green eyes, the same slender nose, and the same kind smile.

“Your Majesty!” Sirius exclaims.

The King reaches out to steady Sirius and himself. “Young man,” he says in surprise.

“I am so sorry, Your Majesty,” Sirius says, bowing.

“Think nothing of it, my boy,” the King says kindly.

Sirius turns to keep running, then thinks of something and stops. “I wanted to say, Your Majesty,” he calls, and the King turns around with a quizzical expression. “Your son, Remus, is the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. I’m lucky to have met him. He’s so good and generous, and I hope no one takes advantage of that because he deserves the world.”

The King stares at him for a moment. “Who are you, my boy?”

Just then, James comes back to grab Sirius by the elbow. “Sirius, we have to go,” he urges.

Sirius shoots the King an apologetic look, and bows again. “Excuse me,” he breathes, then continues at a run to reach the carriage.

They make it outside and James shouts for the coach to ready the carriage as he climbs in. Sirius hurries in after him, but stops when he hears a shout behind him.

“Wait! Sirius, please!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius sees a blur of white running down the step toward the carriage. As much as he wants to turn back, to stay and say good riddance to his horrible stepmother once and for all, the idea of leaving Regulus in that house by himself pulls Sirius into the carriage. The coach spurs the horses into motion, and Sirius lets out a heavy sigh as he watches the palace grow smaller in the rear window. Once it’s out of view, Sirius begins to change back into his usual attire.

“I’m sorry,” James says after a long silence. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea—sneaking you out, I mean.”

“No,” Sirius insists. “Tonight was…” a soft smile ghosts his lips. “Tonight was amazing. Even though I’ll never see him again, at least I’ll have had tonight.”

“But why wouldn’t you be able to see him again?” James asks carefully. “He looked absolutely smitten with you.”

Sirius sighs again. “He’s the Crown Prince, James. He’s meant to marry for advantage. There’s nothing advantageous about a disinherited Lord from a bankrupt Viscounty.”

“Sirius…”

“It’s alright, James. Truly.” He smiles. “If I had the chance to go back and make a different decision, I wouldn’t.”

“You love him, don’t you?” James asks as they pull up to Grimmauld Manor, thankfully before Walburga, Bellatrix, and Regulus.

“I think I do.”


	4. A Royal Rescue

Sirius sneaks into the manor through the kitchens. He’s certain that he beat his stepmother, brother, and cousin home from the ball, judging by the lack of light coming from the front of the house, but at this point, sneaking through the kitchens had become a habit. He stops for a moment to turn on the lamps, but then continues to make his way through the kitchen to the back staircase that leads to the attic. It would most likely be too cold tonight to sleep up there, at least in his thin sack coat, but he wants to take a moment to grab his journal before setting up in the kitchens to sleep.

It wasn’t often that he wrote in it anymore. It had started as a way to keep his mother alive in a way. He’d write letters to her, as if he were telling her all about his days like he would before she passed. As time went on, his days became less and less noteworthy, so he wrote in it less, then eventually stopped entirely.

Tonight, though—tonight is something worth remembering. Tonight is something he wants to remember every detail from.

The door to his room is already ajar, so he pushes it open the rest of the way and immediately goes to the spot in the middle of the floor that acts as his hiding spot. He pries up a loose floorboard, expecting to find his journal, but it’s not there.

“Looking for this?”

Sirius looks up in horror to see Walburga stepping out of the shadows, holding out his beaten leather-bound journal between two fingers, as if disgusted by it.

He hadn’t beaten them home after all. How could he have been so foolish to think that he would have—

“You must have quite a story from tonight to put in it. Won’t you tell me?” Walburga hisses.

“Madam?” Sirius splutters as he scrambles to his feet.

“I should think you’d be itching to tell someone about tonight’s rendezvous with the Prince, or ‘Mr. Moony’ as you call him here. The man with ‘a laugh like honey and eyes as green as lily-pads.’ Quite the love-struck fool, aren’t you?” she spits before tossing the journal at him. “Although, based on the look on the Prince’s face when he saw you, he’s equally love-struck.”

Sirius stares at her, rendered speechless. She’d seen him. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had beaten her home or not. She’d seen him and Remus together.

“Now, I should punish you for deliberately disobeying my orders, however, I’m willing to overlook your transgression out of the goodness of my heart—”

“What goodness?” He says before he’s able to stop himself.

“You insolent little—” She whips around to face him and raises a hand, as if to strike him. But she stops. “Don’t interrupt me. I’m willing to let you have what you desire, and I’m assuming the Prince is what—or who—you desire, however I expect something in return.”

Sirius stares down at her, his expression steely. “What could make you think that I would give you something in return? What could I even give you? I have nothing to my name. I live in an attic and sleep in the kitchens, I borrowed the suit I wore to the ball tonight. The only thing I have to give away is my love, and you have done nothing to deserve that.” He’s not sure where his courage to stand up to her is coming from, but according to James it’s long overdue, so he holds his ground.

“Now, you’ve always been an ungrateful child, taking advantage of my generosity—”

“Generosity?” Sirius says with a hollow laugh. “You forced me to live in the attic and do all the housework like a servant!”

“Well, I couldn’t put the rightful heir to Whingington out on the street, could I?”

Sirius reels back. Rightful heir? That can’t be right. Unless—

“You lied,” he shouts. “You said father changed his will to name Regulus his heir, not me.”

“Of course, I lied! If you claimed your right to Whingington, what would have happened to me? To Regulus?” She spits.

“Regulus will be taken care of. You, however—” He stops short at the sight of her lips curling into a chilling smile. In his anger, he hadn’t noticed her inching closer to the door. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you simple boy, did you really think I would let you out of this attic?” With a horrible laugh, she slams the door shut.

Sirius hears the door lock click, but runs to try to pull it open, anyway. “No! You vile witch, let me out!” He shouts, banging his fist on the door. He hears the slam of a second door—the one leading to the main hall—and although he knows that no one will hear him or come for him, he continues to shout and bang on the door.

What seems like an eternity goes by before Sirius gives up trying to bust the door down. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding, his shoulder aches from attempting to use his own body weight to force the door open, and several bits of furniture he attempted to use to break the handle lay shattered by the door. Defeated, he slides to the floor and lets his head rest against the door.

That’s when he hears a soft knock at the other side of the door. “Sirius?” A voice whispers.

“Reg,” Sirius breathes in relief.

“I’m so sorry,” Regulus whispers through the door. “I tried to delay her.”

“It’s alright, Reg. There was nothing you could do to prevent this.”

“But I can help you get out. The key is broken in the lock, but I could—”

“No, Reg, I don’t want you getting in trouble for helping me,” Sirius interrupts.

“I can’t just leave you up here, though,” Regulus insists.

Sirius sighs, then notices his journal on the floor across the room. “Hold on, I have an idea.”

He scrambles across the room to grab the journal, then scrawls a quick letter to James. He rips the page out and folds it before shoving it under the door. “Get this to James. He’ll be able to help.”

* * *

Remus sits on the bench in the secret garden, this time in broad daylight, and brings a rose to his nose to smell—another rose from the vine Sirius had stopped to admire last night. The vine Remus had plucked a rose from to give to him that led to them sharing a kiss that Remus can’t get out of his head. He knows he shouldn’t dwell on it. Sirius is gone—ran out of the palace as he could without so much as a backward glance—and Remus has a duty to the country. But he’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t the most magical kiss he’d ever had. It was nothing like the kisses he shared with Benjy, which were hurried and fumbling. It was soft and warm, and made Remus’ stomach flip in a way he’s never experienced before.

He closes his eyes, as if that would harp him feel the sensation again, but the only thing that comes to him is the look on Sirius’ face the moment Lord James had told him that his stepmother was leaving the ball early. He looked terrified, horror-struck, panicked—a look Remus wouldn’t have thought would be possible on the man who yelled at him for scaring a stag within mere moments of them first meeting. And it was caused by a person who should care for him. He can’t even begin to imagine the kind of treatment Sirius must be facing if just the thought of being caught out when he wasn’t supposed to be instilled as much fear as it had. There must be something he can do—

“I thought I might find you here,” a voice says, dragging Remus out of his thoughts.

“Father,” Remus says, quickly scrambling to his feet and giving him a slight bow.

His father quirks and eyebrow at him. “Remus, that’s only necessary in mixed company, you know that.”

“Yes, but I’m hoping it will put you in a more forgiving mood.” Remus smirks, then adds, “I assume you’ve come to scold me for abandoning my duties last night.”

“Ah yes, well, I did want to speak to you about your behavior last night. But you are an adult, Remus, whether I like it or not, so instead I thought we’d have a calm discussion about it.” Remus must have given him a strange look, because he laughs. “Would you prefer I scold you?”

Remus shakes his head.

He smiles. “I thought not. So, son,” he begins, walking to one end of the garden to admire the bed of tulips growing there, “some day in the hopefully distant future you are going to be the leader of this Kingdom, and as ruler, it will be important for you to ensure that it’s safe. You’d agree, correct?”

“Yes, I agree that the future of the Kingdom is important—it’s the most important thing,” Remus says carefully.

“I thought you’d say that. It’s why I’m so surprised that you disappeared last night. The ball was intended for you to find someone that could solidify the stability of the future of Hogsmeade, and I thought you understood that.”

“I understood that you thought that,” Remus amends. “However, if this is truly a discussion and not a gentle scolding, then I must say, father, that I don’t agree with you. I believe that we need not look outside the country for strength or guidance. What we need can be found here, within our own borders. A future leader needs to be courageous and kind, and depending on another country to provide security is not the way to display that.”

“You’ve become your own man,” his father says quietly. “Good.”

“I’ve only become the man you’ve raised me to be, which is what makes what I have to say next so hard,” Remus replies. “Father, I love and respect you, and you are a wise and fair ruler. But I can not, and I will not, marry some Prince from another country that I don’t love. I don’t want something advantageous. I want something like you and Mother have.”

Remus waits for his father to raise his voice or command him to follow orders, because Remus may be his son, but he is still a subject of the crown, but instead he smiles. “You’re right. Marriage isn’t about duty. It’s about love and partnership—something it seems you’ve already found in a young man. Sirius, I believe?”

“But how did you—”

He chuckles and sits on the bench next to him. “I ran into him as he was hurrying to leave the ball—rather, he ran into me and went on about how wonderful a son I have and how lucky he was to have met you. He said you deserve the world, which I have to say I agree with.”

Remus smiles. “It’s he who deserves the world,” he says without thinking.

“Remus, do you love this boy?”

“I’ve only met him twice,” Remus says, although they both know it’s not a proper answer. He sighs. “But yes, I love him.”

His father places a hand on Remus’ knee. “Then go to him. Let him make you happy.”

Remus smiles and places his own hand onto his father’s. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go. I’m assuming you know where to find this young man.”

He nods. He’s never been to the Manor in Whingington, but he remembers where he found Sirius in the woods, so he’s sure he’ll be able to find it. He stands with purpose and gives his father one last look, then turns and runs out of the gardens to the stables.

When he reaches the stables, Remus looks around wildly to find a stable hand to ready his horse, Romulus.

“Romulus is here, Your Highness,” a stable hand named Frank says.

Remus gives him an odd look.

“The King sent word that you might be needing your horse,” Frank tells him. “Will you be needing any company on your ride?”

Remus smiles and shakes his head, giving Romulus a quick pet on the mane before letting Frank lead the horse out of the stables. Remus places his hands on the saddle and a foot in the stirrup in preparation to mount, when a thundering of hooves draws his attention to the gates. In the distance, he sees a man—Lord James he realizes once he catches a glimpse of the glasses and wild black hair—riding toward the stables at full speed.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” Lord James shouts once he’s close enough to be heard. A few guards on horses ride after him, shouting for him to stop, but he pays them no heed.

Remus waves them off, letting them know that the intruder was alright. “Lord James, what’s the matter?” He asks when Lord James comes to a rearing stop a mere foot away from him and Romulus.

“I’m sorry to intrude Your Highness, but it’s an urgent matter,” Lord James pants. “It’s Sirius, I wasn’t sure who else to come to.”

Remus’ stomach drops. “What happened? Is he alright?”

“I don’t know.” He scrubs a hand through his hair then draws a letter out of his frock coat pocket. “I received this note first thing this morning. It rambles on about Lady Walburga lying about Sirius’ claim to the Viscounty and being locked in an attic. It doesn’t make all that much sense, to be honest, but it’s Sirius’ handwriting—I think his brother, Regulus sent it on his behalf.”

“He’s in trouble,” Remus says, his throat tight. He mounts his horse and looks at Lord James resolutely. “Lead the way.”

“Your Highness, if I may,” one of the royal guards says cautiously. “What if this is a plot to lead you away from the Palace?”

“Then, by all means, Captain, accompany us to Whingington, but I will be going,” Remus says firmly, then nods to Lord James, who nods and spurs his horse back in the direction from which he came.

They ride at full speed, and within an hour, they arrive at the gates to Grimmauld Manor. They bring their horses to a stop and stare at the house for a moment, catching their breath.

“Your Highness—”

“Please, Lord James, call me Remus.”

He smiles. “Only if you call me James.”

“Agreed,” Remus says, returning the smile.

“So, Remus, what is our plan?” James asks, gesturing to the house.

“Well, Lady Walburga can’t exactly refuse the Crown Prince entry to her home, can she?” Remus replies.

James smirks. “You’re secretly trouble, aren’t you?”

“Not so secretly if you ask my father.”

James laughs and they continue up to the Manor. They dismount and stride up to the door, the Royal Guard standing behind them. James raps on the door and a young man nearly identical to Sirius, except a few inches shorter and with brown eyes, answers the door.

“Your Highness,” the boy says in surprise, bowing. “James, I wasn’t expecting—Please—” He steps aside and gestures into the foyer for them to come in.

“Regulus, darling, who’s at the door—Oh, goodness, Your Highness!” A short woman with sharp bone structure and brown hair in a tight updo enters the foyer and immediately curtsies. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve come to see Lord Sirius,” Remus replies, staring her down.

“What?” She blurts, then her face softens. “My apologies. What I meant is, what has he done to warrant a visit from someone as important as yourself?”

“It’s not what he has done, but what you have done, Lady Walburga,” James snaps, stepping forward. “Locking him in an attic? As if forcing him to be your servant wasn’t bad enough!”

Lady Walburga lets out a nervous laugh. “Your Highness, there’s been some sort of mistake. This man is lying to you. I would never—”

“It’s not a lie,” Lord Regulus whispers.

“Regulus,” Lady Walburga hisses, as if to try to keep him quiet.

“No, Mother. I won’t watch you hurt him anymore,” he says, gaining more confidence. He turns to look at Remus. “He’s upstairs in the attic. He’s been there since last night. I tried to get him out, but the key is broken in the lock.”

Remus turns to the royal guard. “Captain, would you…”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the Captain says before heading for the stairs, Remus, James, and Lady Walburga on his heels

When they reach the attic door, the Captain attempts to force the door open with no luck.

“Hello?” A voice calls out from inside the room.

“I’m going to have to break the door down, Your Highness,” the Captain says.

“Re–Remus?”

“No!” Lady Walburga shouts. “You can’t do this!”

Remus stares daggers at Lady Walburga. “Yes, I can, and you should consider yourself lucky that I’m not having you arrested for unlawful imprisonment,” he says before sweeping past her and the Captain to press his palms to the door. “Sirius,” he says, his tone softening. “Yes, it’s me. We’re going to get you out of there, I just need you to stand back away from the door.”

“O–okay.”

Remus gives the Captain some room to kick the door in, which splinters off the hinges upon impact. Remus pushes past the Captain again and rushes to Sirius where he sits on a threadbare ottoman, shivering from the cold the night before.

“Your Highness.” Sirius attempts to stand and bow, but Remus shakes his head and drops to his knees in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Remus sheds his frock coat and drapes it over Sirius’ shoulders and starts to rub his hands up and down his arms to try to warm him.

“I got word to him,” James says, emerging into the room.

Sirius glances at James and Lord Regulus standing behind him, giving them a grateful smile, then catches a glimpse of Lady Walburga standing on the stairs just behind the Captain. He looks wildly at Remus. “She locked me in here—she lied to keep control of Whingington and locked me in here. I tried to get out, but I couldn’t—” he lets out a shaky breath.

“Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Remus whispers. He brushes some wild strands of hair away from his face and brings their foreheads to rest together. “We’ll figure everything out, I promise. All I want to do right now is get you home safe.”

“Home?” Sirius repeats, leaning into Remus’ warm embrace.

“My home. The Palace.” Remus pulls back and brushes a thumb across his cheekbone. “It could be our home, if you’ll have me.”

“What about marrying for advantage?” Sirius asks, barely above a whisper.

“Whose advantage? I have the right to my own heart,” Remus replies with a smile. He tucks a wild strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. “And my heart lies with you.”

Sirius chuckles weakly, as if in relief. “And mine lies with you, Mr. Moony.”

Remus lets out a breathy laugh and leans in to brush their noses together before kissing him. When he pulls away, Sirius whines softly and fists the material of Remus’ vest to bring him closer, as if afraid to let him go. Remus presses a chaste kiss to his forehead. “We’ll have plenty of time for that, my love.”

Sirius blushes then nods.

“Do you have the strength to stand and walk on your own?”

He nods again. “I think so. Take me home, Moony.”


	5. A Happily Ever After

“Papa! Papa!” A little girl with hair almost white blonde, no taller than Remus’ waist bursts through the study door and runs toward him.

Remus scoops her up and sets her on his lap at his desk. “Hello, my darling. I see you’ve escaped the nanny again.”

“Where is Daddy?” Luna asks.

“Right here, Lovebug,” Sirius says, entering through the side door that leads to the sitting room. He steps behind Remus and puts a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing slightly in a familiar gesture of “I love you,” before scooping their daughter into his arms.

“Daddy! I wanted a story before bed, but Mrs. Weasley said you and papa might be too busy,” Luna says with a pout.

As if on cue, a plump, red-haired woman holding the hand of another small child with jet black hair and glasses. “I’m sorry, Your Highness! Master Harry lost his glasses again and Miss Luna escaped while I was looking for them.”

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Weasley. I promised Sirius I would stop paperwork over an hour ago, anyway,” Remus replies.

“Story?” Harry asks hopefully, breaking free of Mrs. Weasley to latch himself onto Remus’ leg.

“I don’t know,” Sirius says slowly. “What do you think, Moons? I’d hate to keep the kids up too late,” he says with mock concern.

“Lily and James wouldn’t be happy to know that we spent a week spoiling their son with late bedtimes while they were out of town,” Remus adds.

“Please,” both kids beg, staring up at them with wide, pitiful eyes.

Sirius and Remus both laugh. “Oh, alright,” Sirius says, as if they weren’t always going to give in.

“We can take them back to the nursery, Mrs. Weasley,” Remus says.

“As you wish. Good night, Your Highnesses.” She curtsies and slips out the door as Remus stands and scoops Harry up, propping him on his hip.

They carry the children down the hall to the nursery a few doors down from their own chambers and tuck them into bed. Sirius sits on the edge of Luna’s bed while Remus dims the lamps in the room

“So, what story do you want to hear? Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump? The Tale of the Three Brothers?” Sirius asks.

“I want to hear the one about the two princes!” Luna exclaims.

“I’m not sure I know that one.”

“Daddy, you know the one!” She looks at Sirius with excitement.

“Ah, that’s my favorite one,” Sirius says, giving Remus a fond smile. “I think you’ll find it familiar.”

Remus smiles and stands behind Sirius, resting his hands on his shoulders. “Well, I’ll let you take the lead on this one, in any case,” he says before pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Alright, so… Once upon a time,” Sirius begins, “there was a boy named Sirius—”

“Wait, that’s you!” Harry interrupts.

Sirius shushes him, but winks. “He was a handsome boy of unparalleled kindness and courage, which he took from his mother, who was the best person in the world. However, Sirius had a stepmother, the proudest and most snobbish woman that was ever seen. She bore another son, Regulus—a gentle boy, thankfully not at all like his mother—whom she doted on. Sirius however, she showed her true colors to. She could not bear the wonderful qualities of this handsome boy, so she employed him in the meanest of work, forcing him to do the dishes, scrub the floors, and do all the other tasks for the large house all by himself. He was even forced to live in a drafty attic.”

“She sounds awful!” Harry exclaims as Sirius pauses to take a breath.

“I met her,” Remus says. “She truly is awful.”

“One might say evil,” Sirius says, with a smirk. “However, it wasn’t all bad for young Sirius, as at least he had company in the attic by the way of his mice companions, Jam, Pete-Pete, and Lily—”

“Mice?” Remus interrupts in amusement.

Harry erupts into a fit of giggles. “Mum and dad are mice?”

“Yes, mice. Talking mice who helped Sirius as much as they could with the housework, at least when they weren’t being chased by the evil cat, Snape—”

Remus leans down and whispers in his ear, “the man that kept trying to propose to Lily before she and James finally got together?”

Sirius nods proudly.

“Papa, stop interrupting,” Luna whines.

Remus and Sirius laugh. “Sorry, my darling,” Remus says.

“Right, where was I? Ah, yes. So, one day while Sirius was riding along in the woods, he met the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on named Mr. Moony. However, what Sirius didn’t know at the time was that this Mr. Moony was actually the Prince.” Sirius places a hand on top of Remus’ on his shoulder then looks up with a small smile.

Remus’ heart melts as he looks down at his husband. “I think I can guess what happens next,” he says with a smile. “The Prince was so enamored with the man he met in the woods that he decided to throw a ball, inviting all persons across the land to attend, just so he could see him again.”

“That’s right,” Sirius confirms. “However, the Evil Step-Mother kept Sirius from going to the ball. Sirius was devastated that he would not get to see his Mr. Moony again, but then, a Fairy Godmother appeared. With a wave of her magic wand, she put Sirius in the finest suit, made a magic carriage out of a pumpkin, and turned Sirius’ mice friends into humans so that they could go to the ball, too. Then, the Fairy Godmother sent Sirius off to the ball with a warning that the magic would only last until midnight.”

Sirius pauses and looks at the two children, who are now fast asleep. He gives Remus a look, then gets up and presses a kiss to both of their foreheads. Remus does the same and turns the lamps off before they slip quietly out the door. Sirius starts to make his way down the hall to their chambers, but Remus grabs his hand and pulls him close. “I love you,” he whispers, threading his fingers through Sirius’ long hair.

Sirius hums and wraps his arms around Remus’ waist, pulling him flush into his chest. “You liked my story?”

Remus nods. “How long have you been telling that story?”

“I first told it while you were off visiting Beauxbaton last month. Luna missed her Papa, so I thought I’d tell her our story.”

“With a few creative liberties,” Remus says with a laugh. “Does James know you’ve turned him into a mouse?”

“He does not. But I expect he’ll find out soon enough,” Sirius replies, smirking.

Remus shakes his head and lifts onto his toes to press a chaste kiss to Sirius’ smirk. “Well, how does your version of the story end?”

“When the handsome boy from the woods disappears at midnight, the Prince scours the kingdom for him and rescues him from the attic. They get married and spend a few lovely years together before adopting a beautiful little girl from a nearby village.” Sirius smiles and brushes their noses together. “Then, of course, they live happily ever after.”

“The proper ending to all good stories,” Remus muses before bringing their lips together for a long kiss.

##  _...And they did live happily ever after._

##  _The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://mooncat457writing.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
